


Negligent ∞ Jikook 1

by jikookiest



Category: bts, jikook - Fandom, 방탄소년단 - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Depression, Disorders, Fluff, M/M, OT7, Suicide, bts - Freeform, jikook - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-09-08 23:15:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8867209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jikookiest/pseuds/jikookiest
Summary: [also in Wattpad (same name for account)]"You are cute, nice, real as hell and perfect with your idiosyncrasies. I am bound and free, flying and grounded, laughing and sober. Perhaps it is you that performs the miracles. . ."∞ • x ♡ x • ∞In which two broken boys try to heal each other instead of being mutterseelenallein





	1. I • 하나 • Longanimity

**Author's Note:**

> This is also from my Wattpad account: jikookiest
> 
> Trigger Warning(s): Disorders and Depression
> 
> Content: Jikook, Yoonseok, Namjin, Vhope, Vkook, Yoonmin, Yoonkook, OT7, Fluff, Suicide, Angst, Depression, Body-shaming, Friendship, Jimin-centric, Jungkook-centric, Jikook-centric, Swear words (not too bad), Pre-debut (2010), Happy
> 
> Note: This is my first fanfic in my 14 years of life so don't roast on me too hard if I'm not that good of a writer lol

_**Prologue:** _

**_[Negligent = failing to take proper care in doing something]_ **

 

I regret for everything that I've done . . .

     They all fought each other because of me . . .

     It made sense for them to say that I don't deserve to be with them anymore . . .

     Redundancy was the only word that describe me because . . . NOTHING I DO IS GOOD!!!

     I admired the sky of the beautiful yet cruel world one last time . . .

  
     The luminous, whitish snowflakes touched my fragile face as if mine was made of glass and could shatter at any moment . . .

     I feel the blood draining and oozing out of my body . . .

     I slowly closed my eyes, as I felt sleepy, but . . .

 

∞ • x ♡ x • ∞

 

—I • 하나 • Longanimity—

 

_**[Longanimity = Patient Endurance of Hardships, Injuries and Offenses]** _

 

—a few months ago—  
[2010]

         I began inhaling and exhaling, calming myself down during the process. Pressing my palms against my knees, I tried to contain my consciousness. This was just a daily routine or habit for each idol or trainee though. Wake up, eat, practice then sleep. We all always worked hard to strive for our dreams to be achieved but . . .

 

"Jimin?"

 

         I looked up and realized Namjoon hyung was the one who called my name.

 

"Yes, hyung?"

 

"We need to talk . . ."

 

          I felt a bit uncomfortable after hearing that. What could possibly be wrong, which had something to do with me? I followed him and we ended up at the corner of the dance studio, with the rest of the BTS members. Oh no. I had a feeling this was going to be some kind of bad news.

 

          Whenever Namjoon hyung wants to talk to me with the others, I know there's a problem. I knew he wasn't capable of silence unless his brain was in complete overload. Right now, his executive functioning was down to walking quickly. Plus, we rarely get together during dance practice except breaks.

 

          I decided to put my thoughts aside and sat down, sitting in between Yoongi hyung and Hobi hyung, since we all formed a circle. I continued to ask them if there was anything wrong . . and it turned out to really be me being the victim of this discussion.

 

"Jimin . . can you tell us what's going on with you? You barely concetrated on our new choreography for the past two weeks!"

 

           Oh, that. I did have a reason but I decided to bury the truth in my larynx. Everytime I tell a lie, I would always question myself: Does the truth imprison us, or does it set us free?

 

          One thing I know for sure, the truth can hurt. Some do hear and turn their lives around, facing the truth about our negative sides is a difficult thing to do. However, none of it can improve without knowing the truth, even when it hurts. If we learn, the truth will really set us free.

 

"I'm sorry . . ."

 

          It had been like this everyday. Me apologizing in front of my members, for dragging them down. In the inkiness my mind supplies demons real and fictitious.

 

          It reminds me of deadlines both near and distant, demanding that I slice the time between now and then ever thinner to apportion hours and minutes to each mind-numbing task. I don't want to go over all this again. And I'm pretty sure they are pissed off by now-

 

"Sorry?! How many freaking times do you have to freaking tell us that?! I thought you were gonna be one of the best dancers here but I was wrong!! You don't deserve to be that at all!!"

 

           Told ya.

 

"Jungkook!!!" The rest of the members scolded in unison.

 

   Though I'm used to Jungkookie's temper bursting at me, I, even the members, couldn't understand why Jungkookie is like this. Before, he would be the sweetest golden maknae we ever had . .but now?

 

          He would argue, yell at us and even put up fist fights! He also wouldn't respect us as his hyungs most of the time. To him, we were like . .'enemies'? Nah that's too harsh. 'Strangers' would be a better term . .I guess.

 

           To describe him would make him sound like a tyrant. Maybe that's fair. He would scream at us for the slightest thing with a voice that would make even grown-ups quake when they heard it.

 

          Whenever something didn't go his way the entire street would hear about it, his yell echoed between the tiny terraced brick houses, creeping under doors and squeezing through keyholes, travelling through windows like they weren't even there.

 

           Then again, I was always in awe with the perfection the maknae displays to the world. His appearance was painted in the most florescent colors. The pallet God used to create him literally made Picasso shed a tear.

 

          Whenever he smiles, rays of colors from every end of the spectrum go running in all directions, looking for an untouched canvas on which to leave a mark. With a simple brush of the arm, one could be left with an unmistakable smear of chartreuse.

 

          Instead of being the subject of his art, he became it. He doesn't need a paintbrush, for he uses his own fingertips to draw the colors of life.

 

          When dawn was on the horizon, he sat on his stool and awaited the sunrise to radiate off of his and project to the world.

 

          I couldn't help but admire him a lot no matter how much he has hurted me. These feelings were really rare to me though . .ever since I've met him. Do I like him? As a hyung, yes. But what about more than that . .?

 

          I looked up and saw a change of expression on his face quickly. His beautiful, brownish eyes that I have adored for years were starting to moisten slowly. Huh? What happened?

 

          I wanted to ask him why he was crying but he didn't seem to give me a chance. I guess he probably knew what I was gonna say anyway since I'm one of those hyungs who consoles people easily.

 

"S-sorry hyung . . I didn't mean to say that . .I-I think I should leave."

 

          Jungkookie quickly stood up and made his way to the door, packing and bringing his stuff while doing so. I was gonna call him to come back but I already failed at that point.

 

"Hyungs, and Taehyung, you all should get home now. It's getting late. I'm just gonna stay here and take care of this problem myself. Don't worry, I'm sure I can figure this out without any conflicts!"

 

          I plastered a reassured small (fake) smile on my face. I can't let myself be a burden to them!

 

          Before they could protest on my decision, I decided to quickly end this discussion with a favor.

 

"Also, please check on Jungkookie. I've never seen him like this before . ."

 

          I quickly got up to make my way to the speaker so that I could turn on the music and stick my eyes on my reflection in the mirror, carefully and strictly pinpointing my movements. Slowly, one by one, the members left.

 

∞ • x ♡ x • ∞

 

— a few hours later —  
[01:00am]

 

          I collapsed onto the floor, flooding it with my blood, sweat and tears (ㅋㅋㅋ). I used to find sweating so gross. It was the dark stain under the pits of old men while they played boules in sun hot enough to drop a cow. To a teenager, that's right up there with pus and puke.

 

          Perhaps in my so called maturity I've become obsessed, part of being an insecure person I guess, but I couldn't go three days now without working out or dancing until I am sweatier than all of those grandpa's put together. When my hair is saturated and the salty drops run into my mouth; it's a kiss of life.

 

          It's the reassurance that I can still dance or work out, still enjoy the body God gave me for years to come. I check for the grey hairs sometimes due to cause from stress, none yet, but even if they sprouted faster than spring weeds I'm not ready to buy my boules set just yet.

 

          I looked at my watch and realized how late it was. I picked up my phone and saw dozens of notifications:

 

_49 missed calls_  
_105 new messages_

          I had already expected this to happen because, well, it always happens! I quickly unlocked my phone and skimmed through all the messages since they all had the same concept. The only thing that caught my attention was Taehyung's latest message:

 

_From: Taehyungie_  
_Jiminnie hyung, you are making us worried._  
_Please come back home . ._  
_Also, have you seen Jungkookie?_  
_He hasn't returned home yet . ._  
_[Sent: 12:50am]_

 

          Panic engulfed me quickly. Jungkookie is missing? He's usually the kind of person to just stay in his own bedroom and do whatever but why not this time? Did he ran away?

 

          I quickly got up, packed my stuff, and made my way to the door. Before I could even open the door, it slowly opened by a figure who was kinda like my height.

 

Before I could say anything, my mouth froze from the outstanding figure in front of me except . . His eyes were red and swollen, mostly from crying.

 

_**"Jungkookie . .?"** _

 


	2. 돌 • Timorous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot this existed xD   
> And I didn't know a few wanted an updated sooooooo here you go :D  
> I actually changed the beginning in my WattPad but I guess I can somehow make the story still the same here :3

"Jungkookie? What are you doing here? And why are your eyes so swollen?" I asked in concern as I gently caressed his cheek.

 

"I. . .uhm. . .n-n-need to get my water bottle. . ." He stuttered and hurriedly got his bottle which was at the corner of the dance studio.

 

Huh. Kinda funny how I didn't notice that in the first place. As soon as Jungkookie got it, he quickly left the dance studio with his face as red as a tomato, leaving me all alone. What in the world has gotten into him?? I sighed and walked to the park in which I always do as I loved to appreciate the silence and loneliness, which helped me contemplate my life decisions.

 

______________________________________________________

 

[2:30am]

Kookie: Hyung . . .

[seen]

Kookie: Hyung . . .please come back home. . .

[seen]

Kookie: Hyung . .!

[seen]

Kookie: STOP SEEN-ZONING ME FOR FUCK SAKE!!!

Mochi: Yah! Who taught you to swear to your hyung?! And stop texting me! I'm already on my way home!

Kookie: That's the only way for you to respond, pabo hyung. .

Mochi: Jungkook. . . I know you're concerned about me because of what happened yesterday but really

Mochi: I'm LEGIT almost home

Mochi: Probably 5 meters left

Kookie: Okay . . . [active: 2 minutes ago]

Mochi: Aish! I'm gonna kill Yoongi hyung one day

Mochi: Jungkook? Are you there?

Mochi: Jungkook??

______________________________________________________

[Third person's POV]

 

Jimin settled his phone inside the pocket of his shorts and released a sigh. He never knew Jungkook would be this worried about him even though it had been happening frequently. He wasn't sure if he was ready to go back to the dorm to meet a whole bunch of concerned faces later in the sunny morning so he slightly lowered his speed of his walking and decided to look up and admire the night sky for a bit.

 

With his sleepy eyes, the starry night looked like a brilliant Vincent Van Gogh, everything bigger and brighter, almost blurred in the most fantastic way. Just gazing at the midnight blue canvas above stole every thought from his mind, the usual carousel of worries simply forgotten. There were heavenly stars above and a reflection of the crescent moon below on a puddle to admire because of its glowing beauty; what else was there to know about?

 

Under a sky of perfect midnight velvet, under stars so brilliant they drew the eyes heaven bound, the lyrics of starry starry night played softly in his mind. As the light twinkled and the unheard music played, his steps fell lightly over the rutted path that lead him back home. He kept praying that a shooting star would appear in order for him to wish a miracle in his life. . .

 

**But there was none.**

 

He still loved the night though. The silence. The loneliness. Even the darkness.

 

During the day, he always wished he could drown in the air, suffocate in the chlorinated humidity that rises above the oceans. People always move past him, trapped in their own heads the same as his. To him, lonely was once an abstract idea, an affliction of the old. He had his members and the members had him, each other's insurance policy on life, love and the hereafter. They were supposed to die close together with silver hair and wrinkles on our wrinkles, perhaps he'd have a few years without them, no more. But fate saw fit to take him last year for a reason that should take no man or beast in this day and age.

 

First was the shock - denial, anger, despair . . . It takes so long to arrive at acceptance, the final stage the counsellors long to scrawl into their notes. It isn't much of a destination though. It's an empty train station, no people, no trains, nowhere to go. It's hearing and seeing with none of it mattering. It's the world carrying on with business as usual, but for you it can never be the same again. It's the inability to share your love and without sharing love it deflates to leave a hole in the chest . . .

 

"Ow!"

 

He looked in front of him and realized he had already arrived home. He quickly snaked his hand to grab his house key, leaving a familiar yet disgusting metallic scent on his palm.

 

"Jimin?"

 

He heard as soon as he arrived inside and locked the door behind him. He then saw a hunched figure using the wall of the living room for support as if he were about to collapse. It quickly filled Jimin with worry and hurriedly went to his side, asking him if he was okay.

 

"I'm okay, hyung. I just . . .almost fainted for a second. But I'm really okay."

 

Jimin couldn't help but give him a skeptical glare. He knew very well how much Jungkook would tend to lie to him and the other members due to him having a problem that he might be a burden to them. But he would never be to Jimin. At least, that's what Jimin thinks.

 

"Even so, I'm still going to help you upstairs. You know I'm not the only one who overworks a lot lately. . .plus I'm your hyung, Jungkook. You can always open up your problems to me whenever you please. Now come on."

 

Jimin's eyes showed the kind of gentle concern much of like a parent, older sibling or grandparent used to have. He laid his hand lightly on Jungkook's shoulder, and instead of flinching like he usually does, he was soothed by it. He left his hand there and spoke with such a soft voice it made Jungkook felt his words calming him more by the way they were said than the actual words. It felt as if he were wrapped in a blanket of his caring. In just a mere of a minute, they were in their assigned bedroom they always had ever since they were accepted to BigHit.

 

Jimin was exhausted but he knew he had to at least wash up and dress up to his everyday night wear. He casually picked up the towel from the towel rack and headed straight for the bathroom. After showering, he would tend to stare his reflection at the bathroom mirror, checking how much excess "fats" he had on his chin and cheeks. He knew they were just "baby fats" as he hadn't reached adulthood yet but he preferred to get rid of them as soon as possible. Why? He doesn't know the reason.

 

Jimin would also check the weighing scale: 50 kg / 110 pounds [BMI: 16.7 (underweight since his height is 173(.6)cm (5ft 8.11cm)]

 

"Wow, 5kg loss . ." He smiles with pleasure.

 

He slowly stepped out of the weighing scale and grabbed a pair of boxers and a big white shirt. When he got out of the bathroom, he realized Jungkook sitting on his bed, staring at the ceiling as if he were thinking of something deep.

 

"Jungkook? Why aren't you asleep yet?"

 

Jungkook flinched at the sudden question but responded with a whispered 'soon'. Jimin frowned but gave in anyway. He settled himself on his own bed and let his heavy eyelids give way to the bottom of his eyes. He wanted nothing more than to lay down and be enveloped by the warmth of silence.

 

Whether he wanted to rest permanently or not, he doesn't know for a moment . He never would have thought silence would be considered warm but there he was laying on his bed prepared to be swept away by the hope that his sleep would be filled by light.

 

—•—

 

Legs thin as twigs, bundled in nothing more than soft, worn skinny jeans. A chest so frail, the bump of each rib was visible underneath the woven cotton and knit. A face so sunken in, the intense outline of his skull was detectable under the pale and bruised skin. What hurt the members the most was the gap. The space between Jimin's thin thighs, so wide an array of stars could reside there. So wide his knees didn't knock together when he walked. So wide they created a wind tunnel effect each time the breeze picked up.

 

"How are you?" Jin would ask every morning.

 

"Beautiful, aren't I?" Jimin asked smugly, in return and held out his slender arm in such a fashion as if he were an artist showing off some gorgeous piece of artwork.

 

Unlike some anorexic people, Jimin was a different type . . .almost. He would tend to eat small bits of his meal or just eat lunch. He acknowledges the fact that something bad might happen to his body if he continues to torture his body this way. But that was just his habit ever since he considers himself "fat" for no reason. To the members, he wasn't just thin, he was scary thin.

 

His clothes were layered and loose to hide the bones that jutted out. But it was so clear just by looking at his cheekbones and the skinniness of his hands, Jimin was surely starving himself. They wondered how far Jimin was from needing hospitalization and how far he was from organ failure. It wasn't hard to see that if he just gained just thirty pounds or so he would still be beautiful, stunning even. How he was now wasn't even attractive, it was horrifying. But they decided to keep their opinion to themselves as they don't want to hurt Jimin's feelings even though it was the truth. They also would never respond to Jimin's "Beautiful, aren't I?" questions every morning.

 

As for Jungkook . . . He would always find him pulchritudinous in every way possible.

_**He just wished Jimin wasn't torturing himself for the sake of visuals. . .** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll just copy and paste from WattPad lol

**Author's Note:**

> It sucks, I know


End file.
